


slice of something nice

by searwrites (sears)



Category: Free!
Genre: Character Study, Crushes, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-07
Updated: 2015-05-07
Packaged: 2018-03-29 12:04:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3895633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sears/pseuds/searwrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>that pins-and-needles numbness isn't nice when you don't want it, momo knows. it's different to the kind of numb tingles he gets when ai traces the outline of his ear, or shifts fingers through his hair. that one feels good, like the deliberate warmth when the slivers of light from between the trees touch your skin-- something unexpectedly pleasant and very much welcome.</p>
            </blockquote>





	slice of something nice

it's a hot one today, sticky long and slow, the muggy bleed of summer into fall. the air smells sweet, like the flowers on the campus trees, and it reminds momo of ai's hair shampoo, a scent so subtle you don't realize it's become familiar until you can't smell it anymore. the weekend back home with his family was weird for this distinct reason, but he doesn't like to think about that, not... not right now.

_now_ momo lays in a heap, his head pillowed in his captain's lap, heavy after a day in the sun, but light without a care in the world because of it. ai hums a quiet tune that momo doesn't recognize while momo squints up at the beams of sunlight filtering in through the cracks in the tree branches, little bursts of bright shimmers. ai scrapes his thin, tapered fingers through momo's messy mop of hair, and the occasional delicate scratch of blunt fingernails has momo suppressing pleasant shivers.

"it's lame there's no girls here," momo proclaims, huffing as he lets his one bent knee fall flat, so that now all of his limbs are splayed out in every possible direction.

ai ignores him as he continues to hum his shapeless tune, and he only stops once momo cranes his neck back to stare pointedly at him, both eyebrows raised.

ai shrugs then, says quietly, "it's not so bad."

momo grunts as he releases the tension in his neck, falls back into the comfortable cushion of ai's legs, his bare thigh now speckled with wild tufts of red hair. the only reason he hasn't cut his hair is because ai seems to like it, enjoys mindlessly petting him like he's a pup, running his fingers through thick, chunky waves of fiery red. he jolts in a flinch when ai traces the outline of his ear, the pleasant shivers too intense to suppress this time, and then he grunts quietly at ai's amused chuckle from overhead. he's shifted now so that the side of his face presses into the pale skin of ai's leg, and momo realizes with a misplaced moment of clarity that ai smells something like a beach, all thickly applied sunscreen, that familiarly intriguing twist of salt and sweet. momo would lick him and play up the puppy act, if he didn't think ai would throw him off of his lap entirely.

"i think a girls' swimteam would be cool," momo blurts, pressing his cheek more fully into the side of ai's knee, smirking a little to himself when he can feel ai's fingers tighten in his hair. "did you know gou-san is the manager of the iwatobi team? i don't think she swims though. isn't that cool, senpai?"

" _ah_ , my leg's falling asleep, please--"

"oh." momo shoots up and away, helping guide ai's leg to lay flat so the blood can flow back through it.

that pins-and-needles numbness isn't nice when you don't want it, momo knows. it's different to the kind of numb tingles he gets when ai traces the outline of his ear, or shifts fingers through his hair. that one feels good, like the deliberate warmth when the slivers of light from between the trees touch your skin-- something unexpectedly pleasant and very much welcome.

ai squeezes at the joint of his knee, and momo mimics the motion up the thin length of ai's shin, kneading in pulses, biting down smiles when ai laughs, proclaiming it tickles as the feeling slowly comes back to his limb.

"ah, _ah_ , momo-kun, _enough_ \--"

ai pushes his hand away, and then momo sits kneeling in front of ai, watching the way the shadows of the leaves and barely blooming flowers play on the pale pink flush of ai's cheeks. momo is in one of those moods where his mind acts like a homing missile, bouncing between ideas and memories. ai put flowers in momo's hair once, wrapped his kinked out curls around the stems of daisies (and probably weeds) and said he looked pretty. momo agreed, much the same way he agrees now that ai is pretty. not in the way gou is, it's something else entirely. like a flower, or a feeling. a slice of the sun, or the tickling flutter of a dragonfly wing as it buzzes past your cheek. just... something _nice_.

"nitori-senpai," momo says, leaning forward with his hands braced on his knees, his toes digging into the earth to balance him. he grins because ai does, because momo's face must look funny to his captain, because ai does this a lot -- pretends like he's bored and then smiles with half of his mouth when momo gets close enough that he can't hide it anymore. "i'm really happy you didn't choose to switch rooms," momo says, sincere in a way he doesn't mean to be-- but like ai's failure at hiding his amusement with momo's face, momo doesn't see the point in trying very hard to lie about this kind of thing.

"me too," ai says, and momo shivers again as ai tucks a stray strand of bright red hair behind his ear. "maybe we can go watch the university women's team," ai adds, pondering whatever oddity he finds in momo's face like he's trying to read a book in a different language, one he can't quite conjugate the verbs for. "we can make it a team outing, maybe."

"field trip!" momo proclaims, and the way ai's nose wrinkles when he tries to keep from laughing is nice too.

momo helps ai up from the ground once they decide to head back to the dorm, the sun beginning to dip the horizon in hazy orange. momo takes ai's hand in his, squeezing and tugging because he knows by now he can get away with it, and it isn't anything more than something nice. scuffed knees and sun pinkened skin, ai's quiet voice humming nameless melodies, and momo just old enough to start to question his definition of love. maybe it's like beetles, or even swimming. maybe it's something he can just _like_ and not have to explain. at least, for now, ai doesn't seem bothered by it enough to ask.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> [i have a new tumblr](http://searsraes.tumblr.com/)


End file.
